Parallel Hell
by Arianwen P.F. Everett
Summary: A Pretender / Xena Crossover. At the end of Donoterase, Miss Parker finds herself in Hell, literally, with some very disturbing company.


Disclaimer: 'Xena: Warrior Princess' and its characters are  
property of Renaisance Pictures. 'The Pretender' and its  
characters are property of NBC. I own nothing.  
  
Spoilers: This takes place seconds after the end of the Pretender episode  
'Donoterase'. It also containes major spoilers for the Xena  
episode 'Ides of March'. Consider yourself warned.  
  
  
  
Parallel Hell  
  
By Arianwen P.F. Everett  
Falling. She was falling far past Jarod and her father's warm   
arms. In fact, she was falling unto a place that was cold and dead. She  
could sense it. She held off even breathing for as long as she could, but  
it was all for naught. Eventually, she had to inhale, and once she did,  
she knew why she had feared what usually gave life. The air wasn't air.  
It was memories, bad memories, her most awful memories. "Momma!"...   
gunshots... blood... Momma lifeless on the floor... Gone forever...   
FOREVER!!!  
  
"Old tune, new lyrics. Nice little backbeat the gunshots make  
though," a voice commented dryly, as unaffected as is she were  
merely reviewing a film. Immediately, the farmiliar gunshots rang out  
again, and the long gone voice of the ten year old Miss Parker screamed  
in agony once more.   
  
Miss Parker spun around to face whoever this woman was who mocked  
her mother's death. Out of the mist emerged a light, which ebbed and  
pulsed, taking on the shape of a body, ultimately solidifying into a   
rail thin woman's form, cloaked in a hooded white robe.   
  
"Who the hell are you?!" Miss Parker seethed, as the woman pulled  
down her cloak's hood. One thing was for sure, whoever this lady was she  
was quite attractive. Her hair was short and blond, while her eyes were  
dark rusty brown. But her cheekbones were to die for, hyperanimating her  
elven features. Suddenly the woman's thin lips curved into an amused  
smile, sending a shiver down Miss Parker's spine. This creature both  
attractive and scared her intensely. For once, she knew what Broots felt  
like.  
  
"Well, you got the hell part right, darling. The name's Callisto.  
Think of me as your Patron Wraith; like a guardian angel, only working  
for the other team," Callisto explained, giggling lightly, at the look of  
shear shock on Miss Parker's face.   
  
"So you're saying I'm dead?" Miss Parker asked, wanting to smack  
herself the minute the words left her mouth. You didn't get to hell  
without dieing. Now she really knew what Broots felt like.  
  
"Actually, Miss Parker, you're not. You're kinda in between right  
now. Whether you live or die is up to you. And while you certainly  
deserve to be here, you're not truly wanted down here... yet," Callisto  
explained enigmatically.  
  
"Okay, okay, okay. Enough standing around here with our elbows up  
our asses. Get to the point, Blondie!" Miss Parker replied, sick of this  
woman's evasive double talk.   
  
"Oh, we are SOOO alike! You know, when my Lord assigned me to  
you, he said we would have a lot in common! Usually a child isn't  
assigned a Patron till they've commited their first sin. But anyone born  
at the Center is given one straight off at birth. Still, I waited a VERY  
long time for your arrival. My Lord said he was waiting for just the  
right child, one worthy of my guidance, my knowledge, my special skills!"  
Callisto cooed, inspecting Miss Parker up and down like a piece of  
mercandise.  
  
"Okay, I'll bite, what makes me so worthy of your special  
expertise?" Miss Parker asked, rolling her eyes. Obviously getting a  
straight answer out of this one was as likely as getting a straight answer  
out of Bobby. Perhaps this twisted little Mary Poppins was assigned the  
wrong twin.  
  
"Oh no, don't worry, Bobby Bowman, aka Mr. Lyle, was given his own  
Patron. Does the term, 'Mien Furier' ring a bell? Indeed his is another   
path. We were bound together through our pain. We share the same pain,  
you know?" Callisto queried her charge.  
  
"What do you know of MY pain, Bitch?" Miss Parker asked, getting  
more and more annoyed with this looney tune. Not to mention the competitive  
side of herself felt oddly gyped that Lyle got the more sinister Patron.  
Didn't Satan have confidence in her abilies? Parker quickly ceaseed this  
line of thought before her mind wound up as scrambled as the psycho before  
her.   
  
Callisto tilted her head to one side as she though about what she  
heard in Miss Parker's head. Smiling, as an idea popped into her own mind,   
she grabbed Miss Parker, twining her fingers in the longer brown locks,  
and forced their lips and souls to merge.  
  
Ancient images flooded her mind:  
  
A dark haired savage woman. A name, Xena, shouting to an army.  
"If anyone raises a sword against us, kill them!" The army of dirty,  
vicious men, chanting that name, taunting her mind "Xena! Xena! Xena!"   
  
Screaming. Begging for mercy that would never come. Watching  
friends, Miss Parker never knew, but whom this invading mind had, being  
beaten or raped in front of her.   
  
Smoke raising the village, so many lives destroyed. So many men,  
women, and children, dead on the ground, broken and blodied.  
  
"Daddy! Momma! No! NO!" Dead. Burned. Home. Family  
gone in the blaze, while she could only watch from the outside. Momma!  
Get back in! Gotta get back inside! Uncle Occifus holding me back. No!  
Let me go! Let me die with my family! Daddy, Momma, don't leave me! Let  
me die! Daddy! Momma!!!   
  
"No!" Miss Parker finally shouted, as the memories of this woman  
began to overwhelm her mind, driving her to the brink of madness. Parker  
fought back. No, not again. She wouldn't let herself be swallowed up in  
her pain again. Sydney had saved her the first time, a hand reaching into  
the darkness. Sydney was wholely on Earth. She was in hell now.  
Older, wiser, stronger. She forced this Callisto back, spitting from the  
kiss, whiping her lips fiercely.   
  
Callisto pulled herself off the dirt floor. "So you see, we  
share the same pain, you and I. We were each forged by it. Your people  
have a saying. Cut from the same cloth," Callisto finished, smiling  
again, only this time more sensually.   
  
"Listen, you, Whatever you are, I am not you! I am still alive!"  
Miss Parker shouted.  
  
"For the moment, at least. Which brings us back to the more  
immediate topic. Live or die, Miss Parker?" Callisto asked, returning to  
her calm, business-like demeanor.  
  
"Well my first instinct is to say live, but from what I've heard,  
there's always a catch with your 'Lord', like ones soul..."  
  
"Dearest, if you were to be judged right now, you and I would be  
getting to know each other quite well. Your soul is blacker than your  
lungs, Miss Parker. Make no mistake, your mother you are not. However,  
this deal doesn't require your soul, and they say it's still possible,  
even for such a one as you, to redeem themselves in the eyes of the  
light, if that is what you desire. But you don't even need to open your  
pretty little mouth, I already know you too well. You need all the facts  
before making your decision. First off, why am I getting this choice,  
this deal? Why, if my soul is so rancid, am I not wanted in hell? Am I  
right?" Callisto asked, knowing the answer.  
  
Miss Parker could only nod.   
  
"Well, Sweety-kins, it seems that despite your many flaws, you are  
quite loved by that self sacreficing do gooder, Jarod. If you die here,  
he will take down your killers, Raines, Willie, and even your brother,  
Mr. Lyle, before his next escape from the Center, within the next two or  
three weeks, way before their times. They each have further 'work' at the  
Center that can't be accomplished if they're dead. Which is why we want  
you to live, Miss Parker. Live, and Jarod chalks it up to Center  
brutality. Die and it becomes his mission to avenge, but I think we  
understand that mission all too well, don't we, Miss Parker? Do you  
really want that path for dear Jarod? Do you want him to get to your  
mother's killers first?" Callisto taunted.  
  
"No, but what if I die? No more guessing about my fate, no  
more sweating over when the Triumverate will decide to send down their  
kill order on me; no more being used as Daddy's personal assasin; no more  
baring witness to the attrocities that keep me awake at nights with  
terror," Miss Parker asked, her desire for an end to it all fueling her  
words.  
  
"What you want is oblivion, and, take it from the expert, that can  
not be. I went so far as to become a godess, then had myself destroyed  
with a dagger of Hind's blood, the only substance that can kill a god, and  
still I exist. I've been seeking peaceful oblivion for centuries, and am  
no closer to it, then when I first picked up a sword, and began training  
in order to kill the murderess of my family! If you die, you come  
directly here for endless torment. You'll be witness to attrocities the  
Center could only dream of. And you will never see your Mommy again,"  
Callisto explained, her voice falling into that of a child, with the last  
words.  
  
"Then I choose to live. What do I do now?" Parker asked, ready to  
leave this woman behind, get back to her own tormented life. This is what  
she might have become, without Sydney, without Jarod, and even without her  
father. She didn't like that idea, nor the fact that her need to destroy  
her mother's killers could still lead her to this madness. But she  
couldn't deal with those concepts yet, perhaps in time, but now she needed  
to survive, to heal physically.   
  
"You already did it. Till we meet again, Miss Parker," Callisto  
stated with a wink, then disappeared.   
  
A moment later she was abruptly sent hurdling skyward at speeds  
where she could feel the g-forces squeezing her painfully. Faster and  
faster she traveled, as the pain became unbearale, until finally she saw a  
light, bright and all consuming. With her last act of consciousness, she  
thrust out her arm, reaching for the light, the life on the other side,  
and whatever destiny and choices it held.  
  
  



End file.
